Inspiration sometimes strikes in odd ways. I don’t know what got into me, either. There could be something said about using myself as a canvas as an allegory for my “body” of work, objectification and commodification of the female body, the collector’s place within and without the context of their collection, or just plain old vanity. The male gaze can be thrown in there, too. In truth, the idea came to me as I was trying to match a shirt to the shorts and wasn’t satisfied with any in my wardrobe.
I found only three things in Brimfield last week, and for the first time ever, stayed under my $100 shopping budget. These fit into existing collections that I’ll cover in future ZGB Collects posts: small antique mirrors, vintage madras shorts, and a new category for me, Mexican folk masks. Each of these sprouted organically, meaning I kept finding similar items and suddenly had a collection of them. Tastes change, and as I unloaded some previous objects at the market, the following pieces arrived.
During my recent trip to Mexico I was delighted to learn how animals play such a large role in the country’s visual culture, with meanings and attributes that originated thousands of years ago. Coyotes regularly roam the woods around my childhood home and we frequently hear them singing. Besides this, I felt no great connection to the animal until last October when in California when I encountered a lone female. This mask from Affection Goods reminded me of her, and she’s now on my altar wall.
There’s a home video of baby ZGB, looking at a plastic mirror hanging from the side of her crib. I stare into it for a few seconds, lift it up to look behind it, then drop the thing on my own head. No tears, just confusion, and not much has changed. I started finding small, mostly 19th century mirrors during event coverages, and this new addition came from my friend Ryan Matthew Cohn. Neither he nor I knew that it would be part of a semi-nude photo shoot, but he would have sold it to me anyway.
Last year I was switching out my warm to cold weather wardrobe and found that I’d somehow amassed a drawer full of vintage madras shorts. I don’t know how this happened. At least four I can source from vintage dealer friends, now five because these came from Bentley of Dandelion District. This pair shows a great label from The Country Store of Concord (1941-1982/7), and I’m guessing by the length and fit (roomy hips, tiny near-girdled waist) that they were made in the late 1950s or 1960s.
Last week I mentioned that I usually see multiples of one different, specific object each market. This time, I saw it everywhere but on the fields. Iron swan benches are a 19th century design that’s been reproduced by multiple companies since. The first came up in my Instagram feed, next a friend sent a post of another swan bench, and finally the aforementioned RMC shared another in his Stories as “the one that got away.” I’ve only seen a few in real life, but they are indeed covetable.
Many thanks to my dear friend Aryn Murphy for the impromptu photo shoot at her workspace in Western Avenue Studios, Lowell, Mass.